Tabby Trouble
by ChibiStarr
Summary: Anders wants a cat and he sees one in Darktown during Satinalia. A merry chase ensues. Written as a gift for a friend.


A chill wind blew fiercely through the streets of Darktown, the open, gaping holes in the cliffs and walls doing little to shield against the weather. In the cramped, winding corridors it was compressed, funneled, and yanked through the spaces until it howled ceaselessly, the sound echoing hundreds of times across Darktown until all of Kirkwall could probably hear it. Anders didn't think he could hate a winter any more than Fereldan's, but now here it was. The new coat that Hawke had given him was doing wonders at keeping most of the cold out and now he was grateful that he had let Hawke talk him into taking it-he would have preferred it if mages fleeing from the Circle had been given warm clothes instead since they were the ones having to flee from the Templars in the cold. But Hawke had insisted and Anders had finally accepted when Hawke said that he couldn't help free mages from the Gallows if he was frozen to death, and he was glad that he had. The fox fur and goose feathers kept him pleasantly warm, even when the door to his clinic banged open and the maniac screaming of the wind would echo all the corners of his clinic before being slienced again.

He was seeing less people recently. Anders wasn't sure if people were being more safe or-more likely-they were out celebrating in Hightown and were being trampled and injured far away from where he could reach them in time. It had been getting awfully quiet in Darktown the past few days as Satinalia drew nearer and today almost everything he had heard had been the wind, aside from the occasional straggler who wandered in, more out of looking for someplace warm than medical treatment. Anders wanted to believe that was a good sign, but knowing Kirkwall it just meant all the trouble was somewhere else for once.

He huddled closer into himself, drawing his coat to protect his legs as he curled them close to his chest. It was getting impossible to read _Ars Fulmenis_ by Magister Arceus with all the wind blowing all around and flipping his pages. He already had to rescue some of the lighter of his possessions when the wind tried to knock them off their shelves. With a sigh he slammed the book shut and stuffed it into one of his inner pockets; if the Templars caught sight of it he could get executed. Joints creaking in protest, he hopped off his bench and stretched a little. Sitting for so long in such weather would make him cramp up, maybe he should go for a walk or-

What was that? A noise came to his ears, so familiar and comforting that he froze in place with his arms still stretched above his head. That _couldn't_ have been a cat meowing, the wind made strange noises all the time-

"Get away from my milk stupid beast!" a voice yelled just outside his door and then a loud, definite catlike yowl followed and Anders was grabbing his staff and flinging his door open before the echos even died away.

" _If you touch that cat I'm going to shove a fireball down your-"_ he tripped and nearly went sprawling over a pair of legs in front of his door. Only his staff saved him from ramming his face into the dirt and he looked to see a man laying right before his clinic, a bowl of milk between his hands and brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to break the frozen liquid to try and drink whatever was left at the bottom. That was the milk for his (future) cats! The only one he had so much as heard for months and now this man had scared it away! "Where did the cat go?" he demanded, stomping over to the man and nearly grabbing him by the hair before he noticed just how greasy it was.

The man grunted and looked at him with dazed eyes. For a moment, Anders was puzzled. He felt like he had seen the man somewhere before, but for the life of him couldn't remember. "Bah go away mage," the man grumbled and turned back to his milk. "I ain't got business wid you."

The way he said _mage_ clicked in his head. "Samson?" he blurted out loud before he shook himself. "I said where did the cat go?!" He slammed his staff on the ground next to Samson's head, but the former Templar never flinched.

"You smell like lyrium."

Lightning crackled in his palm before he could restrain himself and he grabbed Samson's shirt, ignoring Samson's scream as it danced along his skin and struck the ground to leave little scorch marks behind. "Where is the cat!" he yelled over Samson, letting him fall down. Alright, maybe electrocuting the ex-Templar with what was clearly magical lightning wasn't the smartest idea but there was a cat out in the cold that needed his help.

"Andraste's ass, mage, what the h-"

" _THE CAT!"_

"Back there you psychopath!" Samson yelled back, jerking his finger over to an alleyway as Anders reached for him again. "Maker's balls, mage, now I know why Meredith-"

Anders give him a swift kick in the side before he could finish and ran off in the direction Samson had pointed, praying that the cat had only decided to hide instead of running away completely. He peered into the alley, letting his eyes adjust to the light before he crept forward. It was still very dark, so he carefully lit the tip of his staff with magic, although not before looking around first. Right next to a pile of trash he saw them: a pair of yellow eyes reflecting his own light back at him. A second later it hissed and the shadowy shape that they belonged to started to crouch.

"Oh don't be like that kitty," Anders cooed immediately, reaching in his pocket for the dried mackerel that he always kept wrapped inside. Just in case he happened to ever wander across a stray cat. "I have some nice, tasty, scrumptuous mackerel for you, little kitty! I had a cat once, his name was Ser-Pounce-A-Lot and he _loved-_ wait kitty come back!" He took off after the fleeing shape, turning a corner and stumbling into daylight again. He blinked hard and had just enough time to see a gray cat (a tabby!) look back at him before it began climbing up the scaffolding that ran all the way up to the surface.

A tabby cat! Just for him! Anders gasped and smiled and almost ran right into a drunken elf in his glee as he made his way over to the elevators that would take him up to the surface. He knew exactly where the scaffolds would go, they had been here longer than he had and after years of evading Templars he could point precisely where on the surface each one would come out. As the wooden platform began to rise he tapped his foot, trying to wait for it to finish its journey as calmly as possible. He wished he could simply use his magic to boost it up, but that would definitely attract attention.

The noise reached him before he was even halfway through and it assaulted his ears when he stepped out in full. Drunken revelers, no doubt kicked out of Hightown by the guard and left to all collect and improve their chaos in the streets of Lowtown. Anders ducked as someone tried to throw a cap on his head and also managed to avoid being hit by half a roast chicken that someone had thrown through the air. He had no idea what they were singing, only that it was completely incomprehensible and he shoved, bullied, and in some cases used his staff to hit his way through the crowd until he was skirting the edges of it, breaking free into that small area between large groups of people and buildings so that he could move freely. He ran to another narrow alley squished between a butcher shop and a flower stand and was greeted by a growl. He threw a barrier from his palm just in time, the cat ran right into it as it sealed the entrance it just came out of. "Not this time, kitty!" he said. "Now let me-"

The cat yowled, crawling back and spitting at him, the fur on its spine raised slightly. Eyes glaring, it locked gazes with him and then charged. It was absolutely the last thing Anders would have ever expected, cats usually ran _away,_ and he jumped away in his shock, giving the cat enough enough space to run by him. "Ah! No no no kitty!" he said, summoning a tiny wisp and shooting it at the cat just before it disappeared. The wisp latched onto the cat and now Anders could follow his own trail of magic and track where it had been. Only a second later did he understand what a stupid idea that had just been and he glanced frantically around, looking for any armor, a swish of red, clanking metal. No, no Templars that he could see, he was safe for now.

Feeling for his magic, he raced off after the cat.

Thankfully the mass of people seemed content to keep themselves in the large, open squares and left the streets only slightly less cramped. Anders pushed his way through people, hearing swears and laughter as he ran past, feeling for his magic and staying only a few steps behind the cat. Now he'd see how well it could escape!

"Oh, Anders? What-" he heard a voice that sounded exactly like Merril's say before he was too far gone and the roar of the crowd snatched away the rest of her words.

Up ahead he could see the cat suddenly, leaping onto a sausage stand and racing through the wares as expertly as a dancer on a stage and back into the throng. He was gaining, only ten feet away, if he could just find a clear space where he could really sprint he could catch it!

"Blondie! The hell are you doing? You got Templar's chasin' you or some-"

No, not The Hanged Man, not now. What was Varric even doing at the front door anyway, he sat in his rooms all the time! Anders didn't even acknowledge that he heard the dwarf or Isabela's voice afterwards and kept running. Hopefully they would think he was busy and would only ask him later after he made up a good excuse.

The cat turned down the street and he went after it, taking the steps three at a time and trying not to feel too uneasy at how they were both running straight into Hightown. IF the guard and Templars would be anywhere, it would be here. But that cat! The only one he had ever seen in this city and what was he doing chasing it anyway? If the Templars were here then he could help free mages from the Gallows because they wouldn't be as many guarding them! His steps slowed, doubt clouding his mind. Perhaps he should just go back to Darktown instead of running around Kirkwall like a fool on a wild cat chase. What was he doing when there were injustices still being committed this second and he was ignoring them?

"Anders? What are you doing here? Are you in trouble?"

Aveline's question sent a thrill through him and yanked him back to the real world. All of a sudden he was back in Hightown and he jumped, feeling as if he had just been underwater and came up for air. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, willing his heart to calm down as he reached for his magic. "I'm getting myself a cat," he said. Because that's what he was going to do.

"A...cat?"

"I'm sorry Aveline, I can't talk right now! Tell Donnic I said hi!" And with that he was running again, not even paying attention to what Aveline said after him as he weaved through the crowds and even a parade to track down where he felt the cat now. It had stopped somewhere, perhaps realizing he had stopped following.

There were no alleys in Hightown, but there were still little nooks to hide in. This one was an alcove underneath a set of stairs and Anders approached it slowly, peering to see a darker shape among the shadows. He stopped when he heard a hiss and reached for his mackerel again. "Here, kitty," he said, tossing a piece at it. He couldn't tell it the cat was really eating it, but was there any cat who could resist his treat? He threw another and then went to sit on the stairs, waiting. Yes, he was being ridiculous the whole time, what had he been thinking? Had he really been living in this city for so long that he had forgotten all of his skills, the very basic techniques to catch a cat?

It took a while, long minutes that stretched by while the people cheered and danced and it felt like hours before he saw the cat creeping around the corner of the stairs, looking at him. He grinned and dropped a handful of mackerel next to him. "Yes kitty, come here to me. I'm sorry I chased you everywhere and frightened you. I bet your last owners were like that too, but I'll be so much better! Here, have some little treats and fish from Anders!"

The cat simply stared at him but he kept up the stream of nonsense. It would have to get used to his voice if he was going to keep it as a pet. Finally it decided that food was a much better idea than running away and it came up the steps and crouched to eat the mackerel. Perfect!

Anders waited, giddy as he talked and watched and right when the cat was nearly done he reached out his hand and held his finger out to the cat. It gave him a look, then sniffed him and rubbed its head along his finger. "Ohh, you're such a good kitty!" he gushed, reaching out to pick it up. "I bet you were just afraid the whole time! Aww, you're purring! Yes, Anders is going to take very good care of you from now on!" He stroked the cat's head and held it in his lap, listening to it rumble under his ministrations and curl into his touch.

Well...now he had a cat, he guessed. He raised his head and let out a breath, then he noticed something. He was still smiling. The fact that it had slipped his mind at all was, well, it was something. When was the last time he had smiled in happiness? When was the last time he simply went out and had fun? Yes, actually, he did just say that, he was having _fun._ It was strenuous chasing a cat all over Kirkwall but he had enjoyed it! And now there was a cat in his lap and once he worked his kitty charms it would beg to be carried around in his clincic!

His clinic. Well now that he caught the cat he supposed there was no reason to stay in Hightown. But he didn't want to go. The more he thought of making his way back through drunken Lowtown, down the creaky elevator to the howling, freezing streets of Darktown that he could still hear, the less he liked it. Everyone else was outside having fun and forgetting their worries and-and-and dammit why couldn't he? Why was he being such a fool to lock himself inside a clinic all day just on the off chance that a mage might need him? There were no mages in need today because they were all probably _celebrating_ like everyone else! He remember Satinalia in the Circle, it was celebrated there just like it was everywhere else and it was the one time he remembered things actually being...alright. There were still injustices everywhere though and-

"I'm going to Hawke's and you can't stop me," he said out loud, standing up with the cat in his arms. Not like it would actually help, Justice was a part of him and it wasn't like he could just argue with him like he could another person. At best he would just get stuck on those stairs and argue with himself for hours. The cat didn't so much as stir and he began walking briskly, his coat flapping about his legs as he made his way deeper into Hightown.

Yes, _that's_ how he wanted to spend his Satinalia. He wanted to sit with Hawke (hell, he'd even sit with Fenris too, after all he and Hawke were practically neighbors so he couldn't possibly see Hawke _not_ inviting Fenris over just so the elf wouldn't sulk throughout Satinalia) and drink mulled wine and eat whatever amazing feast Hawke had gotten the kitchen to cook and just _talk._ He wanted to forget his worries and show off his new cat and just enjoy himself.

He was still smiling at the thought. It warmed his heart and he knew he was walking. differently. There was a spring in his step now, happiness and excitement making him feel lighter than air. He was going to have _fun_ this Satinalia, he would make sure of that.


End file.
